


Breaker of Chains

by Daerwyn



Series: A Collection of A Song of Ice and Fire Drabbles [8]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Escaping Slavery, F/M, Sexual Slavery, Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 05:39:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11269059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daerwyn/pseuds/Daerwyn
Summary: Reader is Littlefinger's Daughter, in love with Gendry Waters, and crosses the Narrow Sea to free him from slavery in Slaver's Bay."Shut up, okay? I'm getting you out of here. We're going home."Originally posted on my Tumblr - DaenerysKhalasar





	Breaker of Chains

Seeing him out of the thousands of people imprisoned here was the first thing to surprise you. The last you had seen him, you had been in King’s Landing, shyly entering the blacksmith shop, bringing some food for both him and his master, and watching him work for a little while before you had to leave.

As you always had, from the time you both were in your early teen years. You had grown fond of Gendry quickly, grown fond of his sharp tone when he spoke plainly, his beautiful water blue eyes. His dedication, and how determined he had been to work night and day to earn a large enough dowry to ask your father for your hand.

And then he had disappeared, gone in the middle of the night. And you had no answers, only suspicions in many different directions, the strongest being that your father had killed him in order to prevent him from marrying you. You knew your father was a clever man, one that could not be trusted. But you were Lord Baelish’s daughter, and you had foolishly believed that it made him untouchable.

So you, yourself, had run. You had been bought and sold so many times over that you didn’t even know what it felt like to have freedom over your decisions, your actions, your body.

So seeing him, in chains and sleeping against a wagon full of hay - dirty, but recognizable.

No one in the world looked like him, no one could ever trick you.

There were times in the day when you were granted the ability to walk the markets, and you used that time to observe him and his master, not once approaching - you did not want to draw suspicion or any unwanted attention to him. He was a labor slave, hauling large, heavy barrels of hay onto carts, and unloading them. He cleaned out stables for the Unsullied Army, groomed the horses.

As far as the slaves went, he was the best off. He was not asked to sell his body, he was not asked to perform labor that was impossible for one man to carry out - you had seen many fall in the harbors from building ships with items much too heavy for a single man.

You made sure to please your master more than you ever had before, hoping he would follow his usual precedent of granting you more time in the markets.

It was nearly dusk when you slipped out of the home, staying hidden by the shadows and clutching the metal pick close to your leg so that you could not be seen with it. Not that anyone paid attention to most slave girls wandering the streets anyway.

He was where he usually was, doing the task you had been sure he performed at this hour - final cleaning of the horse stalls for the evening.

It meant he was alone.

You slipped into the stables, and waited until he entered a stall, before you spoke. “Don’t make a sound.”

He spun around, the pitchfork aiming itself like a weapon of self defense, but once he saw you - the fading dusk light giving him enough light to truly see it was you, the fork angled to the ground. “Y/N?” he whispered. He quickly leaned it against the stall doors before rushing to you, his hands cupping both sides of your face, and his eyes searching to make sure that what he was seeing was true.

His chains rattled.

“What are you doing here?” he insisted. “Are you insane?”

“Perhaps,” you smiled slightly. He took in your clothing, a thin light gown, and then the collar around your neck, same as him. And the chains around your ankles to prevent you from running far. “You disappeared,” you admitted softly, a hand coming up to meet one of his hands on your jaw. “I thought you were dead. I came to Mereen hoping to put a few skills of mine to use. Unfortunately, my knowledge was turned against me and…” You trailed off, tugging your lip between your teeth to silence yourself. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve found you, that’s all I care about.”

“Men were looking for me,” Gendry admitted. “The King’s Guard.” You showed your surprise. “I could hear them asking for me, and I grabbed my helmet and left.” The helmet. The helmet that he had been perfecting for months now, until it was ready to sell at a good price. “I only made it a block before they seemed to be catching up…. Your … your father appeared, told me of a wagon party that was moving North, to the Wall.”

“The Night’s Watch?”

“They were going to kill me,” Gendry said softly. “And they followed. I don’t know what I did to them, but they followed me all the way to about a hundred miles from Harrenhal. And then we were captured… Tywin Lannister’s army.” You gasped. “I was with the Stark girl, Arya-”

“She’s still alive?”

“She was. I left after that, got a boat and rowed to Braavos, and then came further south and…” He nodded around the pair of you. Slavery.

You stepped away from him, lifting the pick that you had snatched from your Master. “Can you use this?”

Gendry stared at it a moment, before saying incredulously. “Where did you get that? They’ll kill you-”

“Shut up, okay?” you whispered, knowing his voice was too loud for the hushed whispers of the previous conversation. The market was empty at these hours, and that meant that voices carried more than they did during the day. “I'm getting you out of here. We're going home. Besides, you’re worth that risk.”

Gendry swallowed. “I don’t think I can go home. It’s not safe.”

“So we’ll find a home somewhere else,” you returned insistently. Gendry frowned, looking uncertain. “We’ll take the next ship. I stole enough gold. We’ll land wherever we can - Dorne, Blackwater Bay, the Iron Islands. I don’t care, as long as we’re not here.”

He took the pick from your hands, inspecting it for any way he could use it to pick the lock around both of your necks, and ankles. “I’ve worked with one of these before.” You sagged in relief. “We’ll have to be careful, but I think I can get it.”

“Tell me what to do,” you instructed. He gave you careful directions as he tried first on your collar, the lock coming away quickly. You caught it before it could fall to the floor and glanced to the barrel of horse droppings and hay inside the empty stall, before you buried it quickly. As he knelt at your feet, undoing the chains with a bit more effort, he then did his own feet, before handing you the pick. He murmured the same instructions to you, and you found yourself concentrating so hard, you didn’t realize you were inches from his face.

When the collar clicked off, his freedom being unleashed, be captured you in a searing kiss, one that you had forgotten what it had tasted like.

“I love you,” Gendry whispered against your lips, his forehead pressed against your own as he held you tightly to him. His eyes were shut, as you stared at him, and he looked like he was trying to impress this moment in his memory for eternity. “I never stopped loving you and missing you.”

“You still love me, even knowing what I’ve been asked to do?” He hadn’t asked, you hadn’t said, but the dress spoke for itself, you imagined. It was worse than the dresses your father would make the whores wear.

Only then did Gendry open his eyes, and there was nothing even close to judgement there. “I will never stop loving you.” He laced his fingers with your own. “Let’s go.”

And you led him through the shadows, out into the night, and towards your passage home.


End file.
